steam cake ginza kimuraya

The english text at the top reads as follows:

My lasting memory of that first trip to France in 1952, is of sensuality. Today, one would have to step off an aeroplane on the other side of the world to experience such an impact on the senses. There was a strangely exotic smell which hit me as soon as I set foot on the quay at Calais, later identified as a mixture of strong tobacco, expensive scent and fresh garlic.

This is followed by another block of english which appears to have been overlaid with the bag graphics; at least, it breaks strangely where the graphics are. It reads as follows:

As well as producing unbeatable bread, French bakers also service the nation’s sweet tooth with a cornucopia of pastries and cakes. One French customs is the visit to the boulangerie-patisserie after Mass on <image>u attended the service or not! — returning home with a baguette in one hand and pyramid-shaped parcel in the other containing a sh<image>le heavy creme patisserie.

It is worth noting that this was a sweet cake, which smelled of none of the things listed in the first paragraph. It may be that cakes such as this originated in France, but I’ve only ever seen them here.

The presence of blurbs like this imply that it’s fashionable to use English text in advertising efforts; the contents imply that the fashion is more for aesthetic reasons than for any real hope of edifying the reader. It’s an odd habit, but it’s one I’m kind of glad of; it brings a refreshing touch of nonsensicality to a country otherwise steeped in the efficient and logical.